Chapter 1 #2
Finally, the lights dim and the first commercial starts playing on the screen.
“How about someone from work?” Dawson suggests. “Anyone you get along with?”
Kieran gives him a flat look. “Oh yeah. Lots of women my age in the IT department.”
“Don’t be sexist.”
“I’m not sexist, I’m telling you the statistics. And have you not read the Bible? Don’t shit where you eat.”
“Have you? Because I’m pretty sure that’s not what it says.”
“It’s a loose interpretation.”
“Uh-huh.” Dawson shakes his head with a smile.
They grow quiet as the commercials continue playing.
For once, Kieran doesn’t even mind suffering through the twenty minutes of random content before the movie starts.
He feels good. This feels good, just being here with his friend, who not only tolerates his shenanigans, but loves him for it.
Even if he doesn’t know everything about Kieran, he knows a lot and he hasn’t been scared off yet. That has to count for something.
Maybe this is all he needs. One good friend who doesn’t make him feel like a cornered animal, or like he needs to escape after spending more than five minutes with him. This whole search for a date has only given him headache and self-esteem issues.
There is probably a reason he prefers to be by himself.
Chances are he’s one of those people who are not meant for some grand love.
It’s more likely he’s destined for a never-ending series of hookups.
Maybe situationships if he gets lucky. Which is fine.
It’s great. Every guy’s dream, really. No responsibility, just fun.
A movement from the left catches his attention. Two people are shuffling through the aisle, using their phone torch to look for their seats.
“Sixteen, seventeen…oh, sorry guys. We just need to get—oh. Hey!” The giddy voice sounds familiar.
Dawson is quicker to put a name with the voice. “Hey, Gabe!” he whisper-shouts over the commercial, pausing for a moment before greeting the other guy too. “Hey, Ash! Small world, huh?”
“It is,” the guy—Ash—agrees with a smile. His gaze shifts to Kieran, curious.
Kieran doesn’t think they’ve met, but he could be wrong.
The name does ring a bell. On the other hand, Ash doesn’t look like someone you’d forget.
He’s freakishly tall, a little imposing, actually, with broad shoulders and a strong jaw that’s obvious even through his thick, neatly-groomed beard.
Lucky fucker. Must be nice to have won the genetic lottery.
“Are you sitting next to us?” Kieran asks, standing up when Dawson does so the two can pass.
“A little further down, actually, but…” Gabe shrugs. “We can park here.”
“Great!”
Gabe sits next to Dawson, with Ash on his left and Kieran on Dawson’s right. He taps Ash’s arm, nodding at Kieran. “This is Kieran, by the way. Kieran, this is Ash, my cousin.”
Kieran’s friendly smile freezes as a vague memory takes shape. “Ash…” He turns to Dawson. “Your shrink?”
“My therapist, yes,” Dawson corrects.
Kieran huffs, sitting back. “Yeah, whatever.”
Dawson swears by therapy and always goes on and on about how much his therapist is helping him sort out his feelings.
Good for him, but Kieran isn’t fooled. If therapy was so helpful, Dawson wouldn’t have to go back every two weeks and pay hundreds of dollars so he can chat to a ‘certified professional’, only to be stuck in the same situation he was in to begin with.
In his peripheral vision, he sees Ash leaning forward, angling his body so he can see Kieran better. “And you’re Dawson’s best friend.”
“Yup,” Kieran says curtly, having no intention to indulge the fraud further. Except Ash’s words make him do a double-take. “Wait, you guys talk about me?” His accusing glare jumps between Dawson and Ash.
“I can’t discuss my patients,” Ash says haughtily. For some reason, it draws a groan out of Gabe.
Kieran bristles. “Dude, you recognized my name. Obviously, you talk about me.”
“Guess you answered your own question, then.” Ash shrugs, the picture of indifference.
Inhaling sharply, Kieran grips the armrest so he doesn’t punch the fucker in the face. “You—”
“Kieran…” Dawson says quietly. The pleading tone gives Kieran pause, settling his rage into an uncomfortable burn. He turns towards the screen with a grunt.
“O-kay. Awkward.” Gabe gives a nervous laugh.
Kieran, too, can feel the heaviness in the air, but he couldn’t care less.
By the time the commercials end and the trailers start, he has all but forgotten about what got him so worked up. But then Ash opens his stupid mouth again, and he’s brutally reminded.
“How are you, Dawson?” Ash asks.
What. The. Fuck? Kieran isn’t an expert, but surely there must be protocols about interacting with your patients outside of a clinical setting.
“Good,” Dawson says, practically beaming. “I have a good story for you when I see you next.”
Ash flashes him a smile. It’s just as annoying as the rest of him. “Oh yeah?”
“Yup. It involves painting and cacti.”
“Sounds like an intriguing combination.”
Okay, that’s it. “Dude, seriously? He’s your patient. Are you even allowed to talk to him outside of work?”
“We’re just chatting, Kieran,” Dawson says irritably, as if Kieran is being the unreasonable one.
“You usually pay him for chatting. Pretty sure there are some rules about this.”
“Would you rather I talk to you?” Ash suggests, an infuriating smirk blooming on his lips. “Maybe you should swap seats with Gabe here, so we can get to know each other.”
“No, thanks.” Kieran sniffs. “I don’t have three hundred on me to pay you for a chat.”
Ash hums, the sound as irritating as the rest of him. “Shame. You sound like you could use my services.”
So this is what it means to see red. Apparently, it’s not an exaggeration. It’s the only color that exists right now, flooding his vision.
Hands balling into fists, Kieran starts to rise from his seat. “The fuck did you just—”
“Kieran!” Dawson snaps at the same time that Gabe hisses, “Ash!”
It would be easier to calm down if Ash didn’t have that irritating smirk plastered on his irritating face. The fucker totally did it on purpose. He was just trying to get a rise out of Kieran, and Kieran fell for it.
“Oh, hey, the movie is starting!” Gabe announces with enthusiasm that couldn’t be more fake if he tried. It works, though. Kieran turns his attention to the opening Marvel credits, feeling marginally calmer now.
He falls back into his seat with a huff, tearing into the packet of peanuts. Food. There are few things that work better for his nerves. Food and sex, but he doubts he could get the latter around here.
Dawson leans into his space. “What’s gotten into you? I know you don’t like therapists, but was that necessary?”
“You’re asking me?!” Kieran objects. “The shrink you rave about so much started it.”
Dawson bites his lip, looking conflicted. “Ash can be a bit intense—”
Kieran barks out a laugh.
“—but don’t you think you overreacted? He likes to get a rise out of me too. It’s how he operates. Just don’t let it get to you.”
Typical. Kieran was just responding to someone else’s bullshit but ends up with all the blame. It’s like his childhood revisited.
“Don’t worry, we won’t be seeing each other again.”
Dawson sighs, not saying anything else. Good. Now Kieran can finally enjoy the movie.
Kieran does not enjoy the movie, his blood boiling every time he’s reminded of Ash’s presence. And Ash works very hard to remind him of it, laughing at every other scene, even those that aren’t funny. Fuck. What a waste of time and money.
By the time they exit the theatre, Kieran’s more than ready to go home. Maybe have a drink, or two.
Outside, Gabe turns to him and Dawson with a smile. It’s a relieved smile, as if he, too, has had it up to here with his cousin. God, Kieran can’t believe they’re related.
“Well, it was nice bumping into you guys,” Gabe says. “See you tomorrow?”
Kieran doesn’t reply. Unlike Dawson, he pops into Gabe’s café only when the mood hits him.
“Probably not,” Dawson says. “I have to be at the shelter earlier than usual. But Tuesday, maybe.”
“Alrighty. Say hi to Cal for me.”
“Will do.” Dawson looks at Ash. “I’ll see you Friday.”
Right. Another ‘therapy’ session.
Ash smirks. “Looking forward to our chat.” Then the fucker winks, his smirk growing when he gets a glimpse of Kieran’s murderous glare.
God, Kieran wants to punch him, wants to knock out his perfect pearly white teeth so he never has to see that stupid smirk again.
Suddenly, Ash jerks like someone touched him with a live wire, a noise of surprise escaping him. His attention snaps to Gabe, and he glares.
“You okay there, Ash?” Dawson asks with concern.
“I’m fine. Just a cramp,” Ash says without taking his eyes off Gabe, who juts his chin out defiantly.
What is that about? Whatever. Not like Kieran gives a shit. He’s about to suggest to Dawson they get the fuck out of here, but Dawson beats him to it.
“Okay, well…we better go,” he says, sounding a little off and frowning at his phone. “I just noticed I have, like, twenty missed calls from my obsessive sister. I should call her back before she sends out the cavalry.”
“Of course,” Ash says, smiling again. But it’s a different smile, almost nice—if nice is a word that could even be associated with him. “From what I’ve heard of her, she actually might.”
Dawson’s eyes grow a little wide. “She totally might. Anyways, see you!”
“Have a good night,” Ash says, then looks at Kieran with an expression that’s hard to read, but gives him a full-body shiver. “You too, Kieran.”
The. Fucker. “Kiss my ass.”
“Kieran!” Dawson chastises, even though it’s glaringly obvious Ash was taunting him.
Ash grins predatorily. “Only if you ask nicely.”
Kieran stills, feeling the blood drain from his face before it changes direction and turns him bright red.